Rolling Stone
by Nice Hayley
Summary: Random musings from Paul, inspired by a song on the radio.


**This is just something really random. I don't know, I was inspired. I hadn't posted anything under my name forever, and I figured now was the time. This is just some random thoughts of Paul. Most love his body, but I'm infatuated with his mind.**

Love ya'll lotses,  
Hayley

* * *

The radio blared softly in the background the familiar Rolling Stones tune "You Can't Always Get What You Want".

I knew the words well, even though I could barely hear it. I was too lost in my reading material, which, this time, was Brave New World by Aldous Haxley. A little light compared to the other books in my shelf, but it held my attention.

As I recognized the song, my thoughts strayed from the book to the song.

In most cases for me, the song was false. I DID always get what I wanted. As a baby, a little screaming went a long way as far as securing what I needed went. When I was child, all I had to do was flash my pretty blue puppy-eyes, and it was mine. Most of the time, no matter what age, I didn't even have to ask and things were just handed to me.

Some people said I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. But I know better than that…it doesn't come from my wealth or my parentage. Yeah, my dad is a physician and my mother comes from a wealthy family. But that didn't make me what I am.

No, I wasn't born with any sort of utensil in my mouth. I was just born with ability more valuable than silver or even gold.

I was born a shifter.

I never knew how or why I was born like that. Sometimes I wondered if maybe there was a human manufacturing place like in Brave New World, where some people were created better than others. Maybe there had been some freakish accident…a little too much something-or-other mixed in with my blood surrogate to make me this way.

Whatever it was, instead of debilitating me, it gave me great power. I found that I had greater control over my life than the average Joe. Thus, I could achieve anything, become anything…

…get anything I wanted.

That is, until Susannah Simon came along that summer.

It was at that point that I realized that there were more people out there…more people just like me. I had read books about them.

My Pops had a stroke…no one really knew why. After that, he pretty much became a human vegetable. A living drool-machine. We flew down to California right away when we got the phone call from the hospital. I was used to seeing my grandfather differently…stronger, prouder, and sometimes a little too arrogant. But I lost my whole vision of him that day when I saw him laying weakly in the hospital bed.

The nurse said he would talk the same, walk the same, BE the same ever again. And just seeing him, I knew the nurses were probably right.

One night, my dad came into the room of the hotel we were staying at, with a box of old books and newspaper clippings in his hands.

"Your grandfather wanted you to have this," my dad said as he placed the box at the end of the bed.

At the time, I was reading a book. I set the book down, and in mild interest, asked, "What is it?"

I thought he was practically comatose.

"I don't know. Some old books and papers. A bunch of rubbish, in my opinion, but your grandfather thought you'd be interested in it, I guess," my dad answered, rolling his eyes. He added, "He's never been right in mind. I don't know why he'd think you'd be interested in any of this s-tuff he's collected over the years. It must be all those books you read."

I plucked a browned article from the box. The London _Times_, dated June 18, 1952…the title read _Archaeologist's Theory Scoffed at by Skeptics._

I skimmed the article, until I came across a bit that read: _These shamans, or more specifically Shifters as Dr. Slaski claims, could travel through the spirit realm without dying themselves. They used this ability to serve as a guide, taking souls that were lost in the Earthly realm back to the spiritual plane._ _In other words, these 'mediums' were able to make contact with the dead._

The last sentence caught my eye because it described me perfectly. I could see the dead and everything. But what about the other stuff? What was that all about?

I replied casually to my father, "Yeah. That must be it."

When my father left the room, I poured into the various books and articles. They were very informative…showing me exactly the extent of my ability. I soaked it in like a sponge. Within a few weeks, I had taught myself everything those articles mentioned.

And that's how I learned of shifting and shifters. I read about them in books and papers and theoires

I knew that my pest of a younger brother possessed a fraction of the same power I did, but his was not at all comparable to the things I could do.

But, to me, all the shifters were was a theory. I hadn't seen another person with my capabilities.

That all changed when Suze came around.

I wouldn't go as far to say she was just like me, but I will admit she had the same ability that I did. She didn't know how to use it like I did, nor would she ever use them to their full extent due to her morality.

And then there was the fact that she hated me with ever fiber of her being. Her mistrust in me was deeply rooted in the fact that I was only trying to teacher her the method of handling ghosts I had stumbled across and taught myself.

Okay, so my teaching method just so happened to be centered around getting rid of her boyfriend. Who was a GHOST. Still, her yearning for learning was there, but she let those stupid ghosts push her around.

WE were supposed to be the sheep-dogs of the astral plane. WE were supposed to push the ghosts into the gates of heavenly bliss or eternal damnation. WE weren't supposed to let them continue eating in the green pastures of the Earth, taking up our resources and time.

But that's what she was letting her dead cowboy of a boyfriend do. She was too blind to see he was wasting space, wasting time…taking her heart and keeping it from going to someone more deserving.

Me.

I wanted her more than anything in the world. But no matter what I did, or how hard I tried, I could never have her. She belonged to HIM.

The freak didn't even have a body anymore. Well, a body that wasn't decrepit. I actually got a glimpse of it after I took Suze home from a lovely dinner at Fridays, which ended up all over the ground once she saw it.

Suze Simon was in love. Bound and tied to an idea that was unethical, impossible, and probably in some way immoral.

It had to be wrong to do a GHOST.

And though she was moral, she completely over looked that. She overlooked ME. She didn't love me. She didn't even want me. All those times we kissed, she seemed to more than enjoy it. But was she thinking of me as I caressed her face? Was she thinking of MY lips on hers?

No.

The words echoed in my head.

_You can't always get what you want._

Yeah, yeah. I know.

However, there was more to the song. Something that instilled a new sense of hope in my spirit. It gave me a reason to persevere.

But if you try sometime  
You might just find, yeah,  
You get what you need.

Susannah Simon will be mine.


End file.
